Seeing Through their Eyes- Oakclan

Helplessness (Smallpaw's POV)

I stood there, gazing down at my little sister, feeling a lump in my throat. The hole that I had dug was deep enough to hold her body, and I lowered her into it with a heavy heart. "You'll do great in Starclan, little one," I whispered, trying to steady my voice.

My thoughts drifted to what Pebblepaw had said earlier, and I shivered. "Stay safe, okay? You're too young to fight. And... if anything happens to you, I don't know what I'll do." I couldn't bear to finish that thought, so I licked her ear one more time before covering her with earth.

As I turned to leave, I heard a commotion in the distance. My ears perked up, and I wondered what was going on. When I entered the camp, I was surprised that the atmosphere was jubilant. The cats were laughing, smiling, and feasting on fresh-kill.

However, something seemed off. The toms were talking loudly, but the she-cats were sitting quietly, looking at each other with worried expressions. As I made my way through the crowd, I saw Blizzardpaw and Dunepaw seated in the middle of the clearing. They had fresh-kill in front of them, but they looked like they hadn't touched it.

"What's going on?" I asked Slimefoot as I reached her.

I was startled to see absolute hatred in her eyes. She looked downright murderous; her expression stormy. 

"A celebration," she growled. "for Petalpaw's death."

I gaped at her; my jaws open. The wind seemed to laugh as it blew on my fur, tugging it. 

"B-but-"

Slimefoot's voice dripped with venom as she said, "You can thank Badgerleg, that son of Poisonstar." 

The name Poisonstar alone was enough to send a chill down my spine. He had been a tyrant, notorious for his sadistic behavior and cruelty towards innocent cats. He loved causing pain and never hesitated to hurt those who posed no threat to him. 

Calling someone a child of Poisonstar was one of the worst insults one could say. It was a reminder of the fear and terror that he had instilled in the community. As I listened to Slimefoot's words, I could feel the weight of her anger and the depth of her disgust.

I opened my mouth to tell her that Badgerleg had murdered Petalpaw, but I decided against it. My mother was already bubbling with loathing. If I told her, she might try to kill Badgerleg. That would just end up with her getting killed.

"Ratpaw!" Robinpelt sneered. "Come, have some fun with me!"

Ratpaw widened her eyes. "But Sir-"

"No buts, slave! I said come on!"

Ratpaw gulped, then padded to him. Slimefoot looked positively distressed. 

"Look, don't you think she needs to be a beautiful she-cat?" Robinpelt drawled.

A round of cheers.

"Oh, Starclan," Slimefoot breathed. "They're high on catnip."

"What's catnip?" I asked.

Slimefoot kept her eyes on Ratpaw. "It's kind of like a herb, but it makes you silly and you lose self-control. Which is a shame, because these toms have none to lose."

"She will make fine kits, don't you think?"

Another round of cheers.

"Wanna see how it's done?"

Slimefoot widened her eyes, and so I did. Surely he wouldn't...?

"Ahem!" Slimefoot cleared her throat loudly.

"What do you want, slave?" Robinpelt demanded. 

"Um..." Slimefoot looked panicky. "I think Blizzardpaw and Dunepaw want to make a speech or something?"

Dunepaw met my eyes and then beckoned me over. I shook my head, but he insisted. I reluctantly sat next to him.

"Remove the runt!" came a jeer. It came from Acorntail.

"Yeah!" everyone cheered.

"Wait!" Bramblestar called. "Let's see how Dunepaw and Blizzardpaw deal with him!"

My littermates were looking extremely uncomfortable. 

"What do you want us to do with him?" Blizzardpaw demanded.

"Show him who the real toms are!"

Dunepaw gulped. "You want us to fight him?"

Everybody cheered, their voices ringing through the air. 

"I'll just go," I muttered, but before I could walk two steps Acorntail stopped me.

"You're not going anywhere!" he cackled.

The toms swarmed around me, and suddenly I was cornered, a tree behind me.

"Get some vines!"

Soon enough, the toms tied me to the tree, belly showing. They gagged me by putting an old piece of fresh kill in my jaws and tying my mouth.

I tried to speak, but the gag wouldn't allow me. I couldn't even move. The vines were sinking into my flesh.

Bramblestar tripped in front of me and said, "You're weak. You deserve every blow."

I felt a cuff in the cheek, though I didn't know who had hit me. Apparently, he had claws unsheathed, because I started bleeding.

Everyone jeered and guffawed. I closed my eyes, wishing it would just end.

I went through a series of beating. I got scratched, bruised, and even bitten. My blood started to stain the ground, making a pool of red liquid. 

Bramblestar signaled for quiet. "Do you think this runt deserves to see?"

"No!" everyone roared.

I widened my eyes, realizing their plan. I tried to break free, but Kestrelstorm hissed, "If you break free, we'll do it anyway. So keep still!"

I stopped wriggling, but I started to quiver in terror.

"Harrierstripe, will you do the honor?" Bramblestar asked silkily.

Harrierstripe grinned. "Of course, Bramblestar."

He stepped closer, unsheathing his claws. 

I turned my head around, looking at Slimefoot. She was the last thing I saw before Harrierstripe swiped his claws over my eyes.

Sorry I need a minute-

🧠: You're writing the story. Stop being dramatic, because you're the one making them do everything.

💗: *cries*

Credits to: Karen Woodrum on Pinterest

This is what Smallpaw (Pinestar) looks like now, a little lighter because of her mother's colors. We don't mention Badgerleg.

From hence on, Badgerleg is a cuss word.

DO NOT SPEAK OR IT ELSE